


Cat Scratch Fever

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alley Sex, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Intoxication, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, gross sappy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4891237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night out, all Chikara wants is to spend the rest of the night in with Kenji. However, Kenji isn't inclined to wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Scratch Fever

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 30 Day NSFW Challenge: Day 16 - Public Sex. The pairing was requested by medeadea.

“Kenji, don’t touch that.”

Chikara sighs when his very inebriated boyfriend picks up a discarded scrap from the gutter and examines it like it holds the secrets of the universe. And then he wonders why he, who had drank as much as Kenji, is not nearly as wasted. Sure, the ground is not as solid as he remembers, and he’s warm everywhere, but he’s not — “No, Kenji. We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?” Kenji holds up the stray cat he’s cradling as if it were an infant left on their doorstep. “He looks just like you.”

With a snort, Chikara says, “He definitely looks like he’s done with your nonsense. Smart cat.”

Kenji side-eyes him and sticks out his tongue. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m fun when I want to be. And I want to be fun _when we get home_.”

His jaw dropping, Kenji gawks at Chikara. “Does that mean you wanna mess around?”

“Only if you promise not to puke on me.” Chikara enjoys Kenji’s gasp of outrage before elbowing him in the ribs. “Now, let’s get moving before I change my mind.”

Clenched fist over his heart, Kenji looks up to the sky and shouts, “My boyfriend is a miser!”

Chikara roughly rubs his hands over his face before grumbling, “Can we please just . . . I’ll do that thing you like if we can just go home. I’m tired.”

Kenji’s eyes widen. “The thing with your tongue? Guh, I _love_ that thing you do with your tongue.”

“You’re insatiable,” Chikara chides, not particularly upset so much as tired and disoriented and excited to sleep for a hundred years. “Put the cat down so we can go.”

The cat’s face is utterly uninterested as Kenji holds him up and says with the most obnoxious baby-talk tones, “Who’s a grumpy pants? Yes, it’s Chikara! Can you say ‘grumpy pants,’ neko-chan?”

Chikara would laugh when the cat scratches Kenji in the face if he didn’t know he would be cleaning that wound later. The cat bolts from Kenji’s grasp and darts into an alley, and much to Chikara’s chagrin, Kenji gives chase, shouting something or another in Drunkenese.

With a groan, Chikara joins this ridiculous pursuit and jogs after the cat and the brat. However, when he catches up to Kenji, there is no cat in sight, and his boyfriend’s lip is quivering. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why doesn’t anyone want me, Chikara?” Kenji sniffles wetly. “You want me to just go home, and the cat hates me, and Moniwa-san always thought I was a little shit. Whyyyyyy?”

Trying not to laugh at Kenji’s distress, no matter how absurd it is, Chikara pats him on the head and says, “You were a little shit, Kenji, and I want to come home because home is where the pants come off. Now, leave the cat alone, because it’s obviously not your type, and let’s go.”

Chikara knows he’s in trouble when a slow, crooked smile creeps across Kenji’s face. “Chikara,” he croons. “I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Looking around at the décor — a dumpster, some garbage, whathe hopes isn’t a dead animal, and a smell he doesn’t care to categorize — Chikara rubs his temple and sighs once again. “If I do, can we go straight home afterwards?” When Kenji emphatically nods, Chikara shrugs. “Fine.”

His brows shoot up in surprise when Kenji drops to his knees. “What are you —” Chikara gasps when Kenji opens the fly of his jeans and yanks them down, underwear and all. “ _Kenji_!”

From his knees, Kenji’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks far too pleased with himself for Chikara’s taste. “I said I wanted to kiss you. I never said where.”

Chikara’s breath heaves out of his chest when Kenji’s mouth closes around his still-soft cock and purrs around his length. His feet wobble beneath him, and his groin rapidly becomes more interested in Kenji’s antics than the rest of him is.

Reeling back against the cold, slimy wall of the alley, Chikara pants as Kenji works his lower half to life. When he chances a glance down, Kenji’s gaze meets his, and Chikara knows he’s a goner. Even when he’s probably too drunk to realize how inappropriate a venue this is for such things, Kenji’s intensity demands to be noticed, and Chikara is definitely noticing.

Kenji whimpers before grinding his own hardness against Chikara’s legs, which draws a soft look from Chikara. “Kenji, slow down.” He holds out his hand and stills Kenji’s bobbing head, and while he misses having Kenji’s hot, eager mouth on his cock, this entire exchange doesn’t sit well with him.

Mildly horrified by whatever he’s lowering himself into, Chikara sits on the pavement and beckons for Kenji to climb into his lap. “Come here.”

With a grin, Kenji does just that and attacks Chikara’s mouth with his. It’s sloppy and far too wet, but it still tastes like Kenji and a little bit like the sake they both had too much of at the restaurant.

Humming into Chikara’s mouth, Kenji rolls his hips and earns himself a slap on the shoulder. “Ow! Your zipper just stabbed me.”

Unfazed by this setback, Kenji merely unzips his trousers and frees his still-covered cock from their confines before he slips Chikara’s underwear back up. “No zipper, no trouble.”

Chikara is about to protest until Kenji grinds them together again. The rasp of the fabric and the force of the movement tear a groan out of Chikara, and Kenji growls his approval. “I’m so full of good ideas.”

“Just shut up and move,” Chikara hisses as his body stutters upwards to meet Kenji’s. He is met with even more eagerness, and together, they hash out a rhythm that marches to the beat of drummer who is probably as drunk as they are.

Kenji’s mouth is spewing filthy sounds, and Chikara loves all of them. Hungry for more, he grabs Kenji by the ass and brings them as close together as they can get without melting into each other.

Chikara comes first, as his head spins and he throws up in his mouth a little, but his lower half approves greatly. He reaches down and rubs against Kenji’s length until his partner comes with a shout and a wet stain on the front of his underwear.

“That. Was. Awesome,” Kenji declares as he manages to clamber to his feet. He holds out a hand and is no help at all as Chikara wobbily regains his feet.

“Now can we go home?”

Kenji smirks. “Sure thing, Gorgeous.”

Thirty minutes later after a walk that typically takes only ten, they stumble through the door of their apartment. Kenji ignores the genkan and throws himself onto the couch, shoes and all. “So tired.”

Though he knows Kenji will object now but thank him in the morning, Chikara tugs his boyfriend back to his feet and maneuvers him into the bathroom. He carefully removes both their clothes before helping Kenji climb into the shower.

Not nearly as alert as he had been before, Kenji drowsily drapes himself against the shower wall and allows Chikara to clean him up. When they’re reasonably clean (or, rather, no longer caked in the fruits of their little romp in the alley), Chikara steers them to their bedroom and dresses them both for bed.

Finally, Kenji is swaddles in pajamas and the covers, and he reaches out for Chikara to pull him tight.

“Love you,” he murmurs, words garbled but still music to Chikara’s ears.

Warmth floods Chikara that has nothing to do with alcohol as he kisses Kenji’s temple and answers, “Love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yet again, written while lazing on the couch watching baseball.


End file.
